


Lorem Ipsum

by Casekeeper (LunarQuills)



Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dream AU sorta kinda, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Possibly OOC, They meet in each other's dreams, basically they're in waterfall in their dreams but they don't know it, brief mention of Lancer and his fathers shit relationship, brief mention of hometown psst the current town Kris is in lmao, deltarune! Mettaton, dreams take place in places from undertale but eventually takes place from the imagination, gradually build up mettaton self esteem!!, lancer becomes king, light angst??, low self esteem mettaton, more tags later??, sorta i think, the dreams begin to take their own form later throughout the fic, uh the dream starts to change locations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-08-22 12:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16598063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarQuills/pseuds/Casekeeper
Summary: "Ah, I'm afraid no one's home right now, darling.Now, why don't you prance on home?I'm telling you, they're not home right now.…… Ah, you just wanted to talk to me…?My apologies, beautiful.I'm afraid I'm a bit of a nobody."—The AU where Rouxls and Mettaton meet in each other dreams within Waterfall.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's sorta confusing but,, in Deltarune Mettaton never met Alphy thus he's a ghost with low self esteem and isn't the robot we know :(  
> So in this AU Rouxls and Mettaton meet in each other dreams in Waterfall (although they have no knowledge of Waterfall as it literally doesn't exist in Deltarune,, i think) I'm planning on adding chapters if this fics does good?  
> also possibly ooc and I haven't edited this oofps

It was like he was dreaming, and to say--it was one pretty dream. Rouxls opened his azure filled eyes, blinking once, then twice and then he sat up from the ground, and he wasn't in his own personal room in his oversized bed. Rather his bottom and legs were touching wet dark grass that was too odd of a color and it was dark besides the sparks of blue light that emitted from the nearby water. The place was completely unrecognizable to the Duke of puzzles. 

 

“Whateth on earth is thee?” his voice wavered and he sucked in a breath before swaying up, patting out any possible speck of dirt that could've latched onto him. Many questions aroused at once, such as why he was here, was this one of Lancer's tricks? That little water-beetle! Oddly enough it didn't feel like so, it couldn't possibly be a dream as it felt all so real. Every breath he took in and took out felt real. His shoes padded lightly on the grass as he absorbed each and every detail he could, alarmed and brimmed with tension— soon melting and he swayed around. 

 

There were flowers that repeated different voices, and Rouxls overheard conversations, some unpleasant and others heartwarming. He found mushrooms that glowed and petals that bloomed when aligned in fours, he'll surely note to apply this to his puzzles. Yet, as much as the scenery awed him, it felt awfully lonesome and quiet. It felt wrong. It was until then he stumbled upon a building. “ Thee is one weird shapeth house I must say, truly.” The man in practically all shades of purple and blue commented as he tried to detach himself from a nearby bush, clumsily kicking a branch off and falling on his side. Quickly getting back up and letting out an awkward cough, he stared at the building with curious and a form of timid interest. Was it alright if he intruded? 

 

—oh, of course, it wouldn't be a problem, he was the Duke of Puzzles after all! Surely whoever lived within such residence has heard of him. Erm—no matter how far from the Card Castle they happen to be. Striding his way towards the door, he forced out a rather loud cough, giving it a moment or two to allow whoever was on the opposite side of the door to acknowledge him. Rouxls knocked on the door, hard. 

 

Everything felt so much quieter than it was moments ago, a brow furrowed and he bit his lip at how uncooperative this was turning to be. He knows there's someone inside, he knows. Knuckles just inches away from the door, it was then Rouxls heard a voice. 

 

“Ah, I'm afraid no one's home right now, darling.” A pause, yet the silver white-haired Duke hardly registered it. 

“Now, why don't you prance on home?” The voice was so pleasant, and smooth. 

 

Rouxls could hum to the voice, the voice was oh so, so very alluring. Yet the sound of it carried something upsetting, or rather, the person behind the voice was. Now, he can't just obey. He has a castle to return to and if he doesn't soon— who knows what the King will do! His knuckles brushed against the door before he knocked again. 

 

“I'm telling you, they're not home right now.” the voice spoke out, more sternly— was that irritation he heard? “...” a sigh and then, “… Ah, you just wanted to talk to me…? My apologies, beautiful. 

 

I'm afraid I'm a bit of a nobody.”

 

Many things settled into Rouxls head. Was this not the person's home? Was he just called attractive? A heavy wave of warmth spread across his cheeks and neck briefly at the thought. And unfortunately, this person believed they were the lowest of the lowest. Rouxls has met many monsters in his lifetime and he knew not many who believed themselves to be so. 

 

Unless the King spoke badly about them, that's a different case. But… Nevermind that. 

 

“Thy am the Duke of Puzzles, Rouxls Kaard, apart of the Card Castle in the Darklands! Surely, you’vst heard of me?” He spoke loudly, chest high and chin lifted up. There was a pause, a long pause and then he added, “ I happenst to be lost, can you pleaseth tell me where thy am?” his hopeful chime was not returned. 

 

“... I'm sorry, dear, but you're kidding right?” the voice slowly drawled out, each splitting second making Rouxls feel like an utter fool. Of course he wasn't joking! 

 

“Perhaps we can talk face to face? I'm hardly joking, this isn't a joking matter!” His gibberish speech vanished momentarily. 

 

“... A ghost… Isn't very exciting to see…” The voice got quieter and quieter. He heard the lock to the door click and a turn of the doorknob and his eyes latched onto the very thing in front of him. A pink ghost. A pretty pink ghost with its piece of ghost hair hiding one of its eyes and it floated hesitantly. Immediately Rouxls throat itches and whatever words he had to say went missing. His lips pursed back at the sudden tightness in his chest, acknowledging that the ghost was a ghost and not a monster and that the ghost was in no happy state. A guilty arrow shot through him and he gulped. 

 

“I—my deepest apologies—”

 

The pink ghost's face went from the gloomiest droopy face to one of confusion. “Oh my, no— where…?” Its voice trailed off, letting itself out and staring at all directions as if it saw someone trying to trick-or-treat in the middle of July. “No, this can't be right, I live in Hometown!” But the ghosts shocked and alerted manner deflated back into its previous demeanor, letting out a sigh. It dragged a smile, making the Duke wince. “I… can't help you, darling, I'm just as confused as you are … “

 

Eh? It took Rouxls a moment to register the position he was in now. He was somewhere—he could be anywhere! Lost, possibly far from the Card Castle and the only other person within reach is just as lost as he is?! The ghost even had its own house here, none of this clicked together with the Duke. And the surface, all Rouxls knew was the Darklands. It was a moment of silence, just an awkward long pause. The ghost looked less frustrated than he was, it just frustrated him even more! It reached for the doorknob, floated back a few steps back and just when the door was to shut, Rouxls clasped his fingers on the ridge of the door. 

 

“Maybe we caneth assist each other, don't you want to return to thy Hometown?” He suggested, hoping they could somehow find a solution to all this. 

 

“No… I, it doesn't matter if I return…” this again. “I'm alright here—”

 

“Oh, for Godeth sake what matter would that make, it's so quiet and lonely here, don't you have anyone you want to see…?” Rouxls voice went silent, maybe he was overstepping his boundaries. Physically taking a step back and placed his hand against his temple. “Let's start’st over, you never mentioned your name,” he gave a dry laugh. “... Unless you mind.”

 

Rouxls did want to return back to the castle, as bizarre as it was, he was familiar with it. But he wasn't going to admit he missed the little pesky King's son. It troubled him to venture out alone, but if that's what it takes. 

 

The pink ghost pondered for a moment, Rouxls taking note of how the way it floats reminded him of clouds. “You-you really want to know?” There was a small change in its voice, and it didn't sound false. There was a tint, and it made the ghost look a little friendlier— a tint of hope. This made the Duke give a rather timid nod. 

 

“You can call me…”

 

Rouxls felt as if someone just punched his stomach and invaded him completely, the air bursting through his lungs into a wheeze and his vision whitening. Everything felt as if it was coming apart and he could only hear the voice of the ghost rang in his ear and his eyes ripped open. 

 

“ _Mettaton_.”

 

It was silent and dark. And Rouxls grasped what was around him and he sat up straight away, a feeling in his chest dispersing and a big wave of relief washing over him. He was in his personal room, inside the castle. It was merely a dream. 

With that, Rouxls mouth dropped to a frown. 

 

_It was a dream._

 

_Was it really a dream?_

 

It was daring to think, but the white-haired Duke wanted to see the pink ghost. Was it really a figment of his imagination? Now, he was a puzzle maker and he was practically a spawn of creativity but he could never form something so enticing. It felt so real and alive, everything he ventured and saw with his own eyes felt too breathtaking. And he remembers it all so vividly. 

 

He _wants_ to see the pink ghost again. He wants to know why the ghost was sad. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rouxls is reminded of his additional tasks, which is to care for the Kings son when the King cannot.  
> Rouxls dreams and meets the pink ghost again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to structure the plot a little more by bringing up background issues such as the Spade King and Lancers really bad relation,, Rouxls is greater dad :')  
> and i really wanted to add more dialogue between rouxls and mettaton but i feel i already make them pretty ooc??  
> this is unedited- really hoping it isn't that noticeable--

Rouxls came to the conclusion that his dream was definitely a dream and that was final. The pink ghost was definitely something his head came up with for who knows what reason. And thirdly, he wasn't lost. He was exactly where he should be, inside the Card Castle. Taking care of the King's son, Lancer. Rouxls didn't know what this disappointing feeling was in his chest but he wasn't going to let this interrupt him with his royal and important duties. 

Taking his regular long— he means really long— walk, he decided to greet a few of the Darkners within the Castle such as Rudinn Ranger And Head Hathy. He strides carelessly around the halls, applying a new sign on the dark wall. Written on it is, “Dont runeth in mine own halls!” Specifically meant for a certain little brat. Speaking of that little boy, the castle was oddly quiet. Rouxls started a new blueprint for his future puzzles. Oh- it is the hardest puzzle known to mankind- he knows it! Even in the midst of his extravagant puzzle planning, Lancer did not make an appearance.

Lancer did not pester him to sneak him his own portion of worms, nor pester him to use the Duke as a stool. The little brat didn't pester him about listening to his MP3! It struck concern into Rouxls, even that was odd. No, he should spend time wisely while he could, not wait like a pup for the King’s son to come to him for whatever assistance he needed. He had a more important role.

“You’st see this? Could you possibly imagine solving thiseth, thy worm?” The Duke presented his blueprints to a fellow Radinn who guarded one of the hallways. Radinn squinted hard at the set of notes and instructions, hardly paying any mind to the puzzle itself. 

“Er—”

Unfortunately, Rouxls couldn't hear the rest of whatever criticism the guard had to say as he felt a sharp pain on one of his legs. He jumped in surprise and sucked in a breath, he felt a familiar hand digging into his knee and in one swift turn of his head, ready to lecture who it was that interrupted him. That faded all too quickly when he heard a shaky whimper. All the gears in his head switched when his eyes caught a shaking Lancer whose face was buried on the back of his leg. Something clenched painfully in his chest at the sight. His eyes traveled from the boy up to a door nearby where the King stood. Eyes shadowed with black and he huffed aggressively before he retreated to his throne. 

The huff was an unspoken command between the King and Duke. Rouxls eyes strayed from the King to the younger heir, back and forth and clicking the two puzzle pieces of the situation together. His hand went down to pat on Lancers' head without thought, and the King was out of sight. The Duke waited a moment—and another. When he was sure the King wasn't within earshot, he slowly scooped up the young boy and cradled him. 

It was… awkward. The Duke's arms and shoulders remained stiff and tense, his angling was off- one hand securing itself on Lancer's' bottom and the other holding his head in place against his shoulder. If Lancer wasn't a conveniently sized donut, Rouxls may have just held his hand. He dismissed the nearby Radinn with a gesture of his hand and took a stroll around the dungeon but he was stopped several times by Lancer tugging his uniform when he was in certain areas.

“How about thy shop’st?” He suggested quietly, lips pursuing back. There was a lack of response before the young heir looked up with a grin so wide he could see the shape of his teeth.

Seeing the young darkner with that signature grin- even his abnormally long tongue stuck out- made a few uncomfortable knots in his chest loosen and he could practically breathe freely afterward. Entering his newly made shop, there was a faint chime in the back and other small objects of all sorts. A jar of worms, questionably an ax within a box, a drawer with a stack of books on top, puzzle pieces glued to the wall and was that fragrant sauce? 

“Hey, lesser dad?” Lancer spoke out after a moment and plopped himself next to the jar of worms on the floor, sticking his blue tongue out as if he was pondering about popping open the jar.

But Rouxls knew better. Even so, he raised an eyebrow slowly. He held in a sigh when he saw Lancer reach behind himself and pulled out that disgrace of an audio device. That damned MP3! “Come on, sit next to me!” he patted down to the spot next to him. “ I got a ton of new downloads, you won't be disappointed!” 

“Aha…” he really wanted to backtrack really badly. But he really couldn't after what happened. He felt sick at the thought of the King and his son being alone. “Yes, thy is coming.”

Oh, the horror! Oh, the endurance of not only new splat sounds but fart noises!

Before Rouxls knew it, he was back in his oversized bed with extravagant designs and gold accents all around. Only the most extravagant for the most pleasing to the eye! He thought to himself comfortingly. He had a pair of sleepwear that hanged tauntingly nearby yet the Duke was unable to get it on. Instead, he lay under the sheets with nothing but his puzzle designed boxers. His chest hair tickling his chest faintly, and his eyes would shut and then reopen. He was going to have trouble sleeping, he believed. He rolled to his side and then to his back, eyes staring up at the dark ceiling above.

It felt like hours before the Duke's eyes actually shut. When he did, it opened again and before he could let out a sound of aggravation, his breath hitched. A sense of dread hit him faster than a bullet. He was back. He stood up with as much energy he could muster and looked around, recognizing every single thing at once. The glowing water, the odd color of grass, the mushrooms- the talking flowers! He was back, er, whatever this place was called!

But… could this also mean the pink ghost was here too? Was it nearby? This had to be a dream! Some form of a dream perhaps? Or was this a form of telepathy? Was he even asleep- what if this pink ghost was a god of some sort trying to tell him he had a grand fate ahead of him?

In the midst of his mental breakdown, Rouxls went from pacing back and forth in a circle to taking a path that led to who knows where. Rouxls did not believe in fate, but he did believe in coincidences. It was the same building from his last dream- except there was two of them. One a grey-blue and the other a light pink. His breath taken away for a moment, he saw something floating in the corner of his eye. To his excitement, it was the pink ghost! He stared for a moment, watching how the ghost stared at the pink building in awe. Unable to contain his excitement, his mouth opened without a second thought. “Heyest, you’st ghost! Mett-!” damn his loud mouth! The moment his throat emitted sounds, the ghost jumped in surprise and flew inside the pink house with a slam of the door. 

Curse his damned legs, so long yet so very slow! 

“...What do you want, darling?” the ghost voice wavered, quiet and then loud. “ Why don't you prance on and leave me alone?”

Rouxls slid off the door, back against the wooden frame and legs flat down on the grass. “Did thou go to sleep? You realize that this is no dreameth!” Do ghosts even need sleep? The words felt like gibberish pouring out of him as if he was trying to start off a bedtime folktale.

“I suppose you would already know that…” Mettaton replied. 

“Wellst then, is the building real?”

“What…?”

“The one you justeth entered! Or is it part of thiseth wholest scenery?” The Duke flung his arms up, trying to emphasize his words. 

“... Oh. Actually, this pink house isn't one I recognize… the grey one is where I actually live when I'm awake, darling.” before Rouxls could open his mouth the ghost quickly added, “—stop asking me all these questions—how come you think I know the answers to any of them?” Mettaton hushed out, Rouxls almost squeaked at the open persistence of the ghost. 

“ Thou art, I'm making the clever assumptionest that you musteth have more knowledge about this than thy.” The Duke fiddled with the grass with his gloved finger and came to the realization that he was wearing his dark uniform. He wondered what else would change or stay the same—there was question after question. How was there a building that the ghost recognized when they were awake, but the whole Card Castle seized to exist? 

He wants to venture forth the mysterious place that surrounded them both, but venturing alone was something he just doesn't do. 

“Is Mettaton your actual name?” For a question, so out of place the ghost was quick to answer. 

“You'd think I'd give you a false name, dear…?” there was an edge in his voice that Rouxls immediately declared to dislike. 

“This is—well isn'teth exactly real, but it isn't a dream either. We couldst lie about ourselves completely and there wouldn'testh be a consequence to it.” Rouxls finally sputtered out. With everything he could conclude, there couldn't possibly be a consequence. But if there was anything to convince Mettaton to leave the building and not hide behind doors— Rouxls would make it work. 

Picking himself up from the ground and patting the hem of his uniform, the Duke circled around the building, looking for any windows or other possible entrances to enter. Disappointingly, all the window blinds were shut and the only other door was locked. 

“Why are you so persistent?” Mettaton voice rang to the Duke, becoming aware of how painfully quiet it was. Above him remained dark, and the light the water nearby produced comforted him. “...I’m just a ghost. I don't have a body or a physical structure, I could bore everyone…” Every word coming out from the ghost came in long drawls. It cleared how troubled the ghost felt with themselves. Rouxls knew that there was already an obstacle before venturing out could become a choice- how low the ghost felt.

“Oh come onst now, physical appearance isn’t always a priority!” although the Duke could admit at any time of day that he was a handsome being himself. “If that happened to be the case- thou still intrigue thy for being the mere form of a ghost! Look now, you're a lovely shade of pink!”

Rouxls chuckled nervously, fingers messing with the thin piece of skin between his lips.

There was the sound of the door unlocking, the door itself opened slowly and there was the smallest smile on the ghosts face. Rouxls lost his breath. He felt like he was just pushed into a cold lake- feeling oddly delighted there was his own well known wide smile stretching on his lips.

“That wasn’t very convincing, beautiful. Do the Blooky tradition with me.”

The Duke only raised a brow and was taught that the “Blooky tradition” was the tradition in where he has to lay down, stay still and feel like garbage. Rouxls isn't a fan of the tradition.

But if all he had to do was lay down on the wooden floor next to the ghost and blab on and on, he didn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are writers fuel uwu  
> i love rouxls and mtt sm


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mettaton brings up his dreams for the spotlight. Lancer takes the throne.

“I want to be a star, Rouxls.” voice quiet yet brimming with want. A tempting smile itched on the Duke's lips upon the ghost finally pronouncing his name right.

“A star…? liketh the one the floweth'rs 'round here mention?” a brow raised and memories of echoing flowers flooding in.

“Oh… that's cute, dear… but no.” a soft chuckle emitted from the ghost, eyelids drooping.

“Elaborate, Mett.” the Duke gestured his hand upwards and away from the floor.

“You know… I want to entertain others,” A pause. “ I want to be the prince who brings the drama! I want to be on television, the camera solely on me, capturing me only…!” The ghost then flew up from the floor and gave a little twirl out of excitement. Rouxls stared up in surprise, his azure eyes only on the ghost, only on Mettaton. His breath felt short and all cut off and it was all over once Mettaton quickly dove back to the floor, a longing in his voice. “... There is nothing for the camera to catch, no beauty. A ghost isn't what everyone wants to see. A ghost won't catch anyone's attention, darling…”

Rouxls throat burned to interject. He wanted to grab Mettatons ghost shoulders and shake him and tell him otherwise.

But Rouxls can't do that. He doesn't even know what television was-!

“Now where didst thee receiveth such philosophy?” If the Duke was honest with himself, there was no such thing as a ghost that roamed around the Dark Lands so he hardly knew what others thought of it. To him—why on earth would people not want to watch a ghost, through whatever a television was? 

“Dearest,” The ghost groaned. “It's common knowledge! No one…acknowledges a ghost...hardly.”

“Mett, I've hardly known you that long but I had’st a sense that you would tryeth harder than this.”

“I have, believe me, I have… a ghost is just no fit to be a celebrity..” 

It came to Rouxls that he, disappointingly, was distant from the pink ghost. In the sense that he felt foolish enough to think he could know so much in just a few hours. 

Minutes? Hours? Days? No, days was not a possibility. 

There was still so much to know. So much Rouxls yearned to know. 

“Thou, pathetic worm.”

“...What?”

“Thoust, you’st have to prove yourself!” The silver-haired Duke scrambled off from the ground and was up and standing as fast as he could speak. He was also getting tired of feeling like garbage, definitely. “I knoweth may feel disapproving to be put down, but thee has’t to keep going! Don't you understand?” He envisioned the look a certain jester that was locked up gave towards his own puzzle- oh that expression of mock! It made him shiver in anger- in confusion. “If thee want something so truly- thy knows you want it ever so truly, why make your actions come to a halt now…?” His gloved hand clenched in the air. His azure eyes traveled down to Mettaton.

Oh no, he frightened his dear friend- Rouxls froze and his vision whitened, his breathing stopped and then his chest was filled with unease. His eyes fly open and his eyes landed on nothing but his dark ceiling. His hands patted down hesitantly on his bed sheets and he exhaled painfully. The first thing the Duke noticed was that he felt so drained as if he actually never went to bed and got his beauty sleep. Every muscle felt so tense each slight movement sent a tinge of ache through his very being. The second thing that finally came to his senses was the uneven knocking on his door. Who could be pestering a man like him in such an hour? Forcing himself off his wonderful bed, he looked down and Head Hathy anxiously looked up at him.

“The King wants to inform everyone about the Lightners right away. The Lightners have finally arrived. He fetched the young Lancer to stop them.”

The words struck the Duke like cold water was sloshed onto him. Drastically cold and one that sent shivers down his spine. “Whateth?” He wasn’t awake enough for this, oh Gode, he wasn’t awake enough for this! “WHAT?!” The Duke exploded. 

Head Hathy shrugged back in slight surprise, holding their weapon close. Rouxls inhaled sharply, his tall form feeling more than exaggerated, lifted a finger up and exhaled. “What on earth is the King thinking?” He mumbled under his breath, his other hand muffling his voice. Sending the prince on his own? Lancer was hardly prepared to fight anything on his own, he's going on an empty stomach! 

Wait. Rouxls emitted out a high wavering scream, slamming the door shut and hands on his bare chest. How crude of him! Opening his door so carelessly, leaving his very being exposed for everyone to see! Not that he wasn't attractive—oh, he was a sight—but not in front of the others within the Castle! 

By the time all the guards were up, Rouxls checked every single room there was possible and unfortunately enough, Lancer was nowhere within his sight. 

The Duke knew by then, he'd have to prepare himself. He knew better than anyone that the young prince would be unable to hold off such enemies. Throughout the day though, he was starting to have doubts. 

“I heard the young prince made friends with a frightening purple individual.”

“I actually saw that same purple Lightner with two others previously. Do you believe they decided to join us?”

“... I encountered the Lightners myself! They're sorta nice… you didn't hear that from me!”

Was Lancer trying to befriend their enemies? Were their enemies not as cold blooded as they thought? The thought of the young heir trying to pretend he was making friends was definitely not an option. 

Placing the block on just the right spot, counting how far apart the push block and piece of would was, Rouxls grinned widely. Or rather, he practiced that big grin of his to look as frightening as possible. 

Even if his cheeks were starting to sore. 

Just a few loud bangs within the Castle, a battle outside its grounds and an alarm going off in the basement and Rouxls, the Duke of Puzzles, was ready teleport, and to trap the enemies with his greatest puzzle! 

“Toil, worms!”

—

The Duke was an extraordinary creature. One with the power to create an extravagant puzzle. Yet, he was defeated so easily—no! No! He was simply testing the Lightners capabilities and merely wanted to assist them! Yes, yes, he was on the side of the winning. 

And now the throne of the King belonged to none other than, Lancer? 

Oh, now this feels like a dream. One big, stingy dream. The Duke dragged himself alongside the dark hallway, eyelids heavy, yet unable to bring himself to fall asleep. 

Lancer was the new King. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, just very difficult to process. 

Lancer. The King. The new King. King Spade taken away by his own people! Oh! A forced laugh left the silver haired Duke, dry and slang. What of the Dark Lands now? Rouxls never felt so powerless with his pretend of a puzzle, so outweighed and much like a person you could forget. Nevermind that, the heavy feeling in his chest. 

With the last of his unusually low strength, he forced himself to teleport to his chambers, and he simply collapsed onto the floor besides his bed. When was the last he fell asleep? 

When he did, he opened his eyes once, than twice. And stared up. 

He saw leaves of painted red and alluring orange. His brows furrowed and he stood up, in mild confusion. Was he truly asleep? No, this was within the Dark Lands. The Field of Hope and Dreams. Yet, where was those who occupied the area? The puzzles far from the Castle? The Duke was very much familiar with this. When he looked down, he was in suit. But with golden accents and a cape behind him. There was a Saber on his side. 

He was dreaming surely! But not where the water remained glowing. And where the flowers echoed and the mushrooms lit up. Where four petals aligned formed a bridge and above was nothing but cave. He walked around a few steps, he knew his way through such territory, but his illusion of a dream proved otherwise when the trail to the castle was not there. It knocked him cold when the question arises, 

Where was Mettaton? 

His question was answered when he found the ghost unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayo sorry for the long wait (and the somewhat short chapter?)
> 
> But I wanted to thank you all for the kudos and comments!! <3 I didn't think this fic would get much attention, but it did
> 
> I wanted to mention that theres a few headcanons going around. Like the brief mention of Rouxls and Jevil (because they're the Rules Card and Joker Card) I wanted to bring up some form of relation, it's leaning more towards the 'they dislike each other' and other things such as Rouxls possibly fencing in the past and him pretending to make his puzzles impossibly easy.
> 
> I just wanted to clear some things! Enjoy
> 
> psst also it's unedited


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unnoticeable change will take its turn, whether both individuals in the dream notice it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got around to making a chapter at least 2000 words holy cow  
> I also figured out how to italicize words!! I'm really hyped about that,,  
> shdkl i was going to try to get this done so it could be like a Christmas present for yall but uh,,, merry late Christmas!! happy holidays

A soft wind blew and caressed all forms within its path. Red and orange all colors autumn, leaves floated and fell in one way or another, azure eyes flew down and leaves scattered and became the ground. In his attire of royalty, the Duke's grip on the familiar weapon—a Saber—his breath labor and his legs felt all weak and wobbly. He looked at his gloved hands and he envisioned nothing but the familiar oozing dust crawl from his fingers. His mouth twisted into a tight wavering frown. “What is this?” He whispered, but his voice echoed loudly. His gibberish accent was absent in turn of the twist in his stomach, the unease in his chest.

The wind that came from an unknown source blew harsh, his silver locks of hair violently swaying to the side. His sensitive eyes shut and he held himself, the Saber never left. The wind disappeared when his foot stuttered back and he heard a familiar voice. He turned back and the glowing scenery of a memory came into place. The King tall and young, and Rouxls bowed down before him, hair falling off his shoulders and Saber on his side. He could hear the faint voices echo throughout the endless black.

_“Yes, your highness. Yes, Thoust King.”_

Words only for the King. Not the present King. He, he was no King but a mere foolish dictator.

There was a cry grower louder and louder and with a slow turn of his head, he saw a glowing cot with blue accents and decorated at its finest.

The Duke instantly recognized the baby's crib, and he understood instantly what was before him. The day the young prince was born, the day the Duke was no Duke, but a form of Knight in the Dark Lands, besides the King. Not the infamous Knight who assisted on whatever became of the Dark Lands, but one deadly and always beside the Kings side. Rouxls strayed away from the glowing King and his younger self and towards the cot, eyes brimmed with sentiment when he caught the sight of the crying heir. The newly born Lancer.

His free hand slowly reached down to gently pat the prince, his hand mere inches away and again, a wind so brutal pushed the Duke away and he flew up, tossed like a ragged toy, the glowing scenery of his memories becoming smaller and smaller. Small enough into a speck of light, a star in the lost dark sky and his bottom fell into leaves of autumn again. The leaves flying upwards and then slowly encircled around him as if it were a barrier of leaves. All he could see was orange, pink, red, repeat.

His hand urged itself out and reached forward to make an opening, his legs struggled to stay still as his foot couldn't step onto something. No ground, no flooring, just red, pink and orange. And then he heard it. A soft voice singing. It echoed, and the loud harsh sounds of the leaves faltered, the leaves stopping mid-air and staying into place. The voice sounded enchanting, alluring. The sense of alarm and fear and the tense of Rouxls muscles slowly undid itself, he recognized this voice.

_“...Really sad_   
_You're gonna die_   
_Cry cry cry_   
_So sad it's happening.”_

He believed he did. Mettatons voice. Where did Mettaton go? Last he saw the ghost, he was unconscious—remained unconscious. Right about when he reached out for the pink ghost, calling him by his name, Rouxls was swayed away and locked into his memories. Could he make the assumption that he wasn't in his own memories anymore? Was he still dreaming? His face scrunched up almost immediately when the voice of the ghost slowly merged with one that was metallic. There was a loud thud that continued in a long series of other thuds. Almost as if wheels were going down a stairway? The Duke replaced his hand and instead attempted to side the leaves with his Saber. At last, it proved pointless and he was blinded with nothing but leaves of autumn. Then, golden leaves introduced itself and that train wreck of motion came to a halt. Rouxls gave out a shaky sigh and placed a shaky hand on his lower abdomen, trying to calm down his possibly upset stomach. His silver hair tousled back and pointed ears all sweaty and moist.

Finally, he heard the voice that calmed him again. Not an illusion, not simply a voice, but the pink ghost in front of him with a look of worry given to him. The Duke was never more relieved to catch sight of the ghost. Mettaton.

Mettaton.

“...darling? Earth to dearest…”

Both surrounded by leaves of golden, nothing but golden—then pumpkin orange and red again. Nothing but so, all else was a glowing black. The pink ghost eyes carried a look that Rouxls can only render as understanding.

“Ohst! Mettaton! Where hast thou been?” Rouxls voice dragged and he dropped his Saber, arms thrown forward to grasp the ghost into an embrace. Of course, he can't actually hug a ghost—nonetheless actually touch one. Unfortunately. He landed face first into the puddle of leaves with a loud groan and a surprised noise from the ghost. “My apologies, I got ahead of thy self.”

“... It's alright, darling.” Mettaton mused, the Duke picked himself off the ground, patting his uniform to rid of debris. “So, you fell asleep before me… this time?”

Rouxls slowly raced a brow, gesturing for the ghost to go on.

“What I mean is…assumingly we meet in dreams… I tend to… sleep…. more often.” His voice went quiet, eyes casting downwards. Ghosts didn't really have a form but the way Mettaton bangs covered more of his eye made it feel as if he was shrugging back. “We don't fall asleep at the same time. Don't you recall upon all the times you dream, I'm already here? There's already a whole scenery—I'm not saying I chose this… I don't know this place…”

“... Does thou recall memories then? Or perhaps also find themselves in situations they never found themselves in?”

“Er yes...that’s what I’m trying to say...explain... “ Mettaton voice struggled to maintain audible, wavering quiet. “Are you fond of the memories that appeared…? Mine is more repeated but isn't necessarily pleasant…”

The question gifted to the Duke felt intrusive, a question never meant to be given to him, nonetheless asked of him. Yet, he didn't feel the want to object.

“Darling! I'm sorry… I shouldn't have asked-”

“-No no it’st not an issue!” Rouxls quickly interjected, placing his gloved hands up in front of the ghost. “It’s simply, a long tale. Mett,” his voice was an odd pitch before his eyes averted from the pink ghost and to the neglected Saber. The blade stook out from its form, golden petals burying it. “Didst thee ever planeth to inform me of this? of recurring memories? ”

“I don't know… I’m not sure if I ever would have… I assumed it would eventually come naturally as it did me…” Mettaton spoke in a voice that tinted with lost, confusion. “As everything in this mixture of a dream does. Darling, we both still don't know much of it. _We both don't._ ” For the many nights Rouxls knew Mettaton, he never once heard the affirmation tone within the ghost. As if he was certain about many things, the exposure felt immense, a small smile lingered on his blue lips. His arms bent down and retrieved the weapon he wished to forget, one that troubled him in countless ways. He brought up the Saber with both hands and held it in front of the ghost, head bowed.

“I’m not proud of what I’ve done. How much seeped through my fingertips with ease, I believed what I did was for the benefit of the Darklands…” the Duke spoke in long drawled words, mentioning all about his home, what was his home. Like a tale, a night-time story, the fall of the castle and its long period of trouble. The downfall and his fall to becoming a mere Duke overwhelmed and his inability to fight back against the King, he remained a puzzle maker. All the words that left his lips was another weight lifted from his chest, by the time he couldn’t think, he heard the Saber hit the bed of flowers and a rush of cold traveling from his left hand to his chest. His head swayed up immediately and his mouth opened in slight shock.

He could feel the ghost. He could physically feel Mettaton's hand in his own- a small pink stub- his chest, literally cold, felt a spread of warmth. It felt electric, sparkling, Rouxls couldn't place it into words, he couldn't find the words to place how he felt. The ghost attempt in comforting was more enough and the Duke produced a growing laugh. Genuine, he fell back into the bed of golden flowers and above was not pure black, but a sky he has never seen before. Glowing specks illuminated and contrasted the blue hues in a way Rouxls couldn’t stray his eyes from. Were these the stars Mettaton mentioned? Are these how they appear? At his sudden burst, the ghost gave a puzzled look, slowly hovering closer to the Duke, settling himself beside Rouxls head.

The nervous, frightening feeling in Rouxls chest from his previous memories had disappeared, the crippling loneliness was fading into a form of curiosity that he hasn’t felt in a long time. Was it one simple touch of the ghost that cured this? Did ghosts have this particular effect on everything it touched?

“Rouxls, dear, did I frighten you…?” Mettaton ushered out, almost apologetic.

The silver-haired Duke shook his head, gloved hands placed lightly on his chest. “ Thy heard you singing earlier, was’st my imagination?”

Mettaton face went a shade darker than his normal pink hue, lips pursuing back nervously. “Me singing..? Dearest are you sure...it could’ve been me…? I did no such thing!”

“Really?” a sound emitted from the back of the Duke's throat, almost accusingly. “I couldst sworn it waseth you! Truly!” Rouxls brows furrowed, struggling to remember the words in the melody. He threw his arm upwards in an exaggerated gesture, ruining any serene atmosphere that was built. “Thou would make a great singer if thee says so thyself!” he proclaimed.

“...you think so?” the ghost murmured, his head downcast and messing with his long lock of ghost hair.

“Don’t believe me, thou worm?”

“...I very much disagree with you. I don't have the vocals...not very pleasant vocals.”

The Duke gave an exaggerated groan and picked himself off the flower covered ground. “About ghosts, can I physically touch thou?” he asked, never mind think about his wording.

Mettaton raised a brow. “It's common knowledge that only the ghost allows when they can physically touch something or someone…” he said in a matter of fact tone.

“Whatst, you're kidding?”

“No…?”

“Well then, may thee alloweth me to?” Rouxls extended his hand out.

“What?” Mettaton's eyes slid down to the hand offered to him before the thought clicked. “Oh..!” the ghost remained hesitant, for a long, long moment. The Duke didn't comprehend how long, only for the awaited answer. Slowly, ever so slowly, did Mettaton reached out his own small stub of a hand and accepted the hand, looking up at the Duke's face. He suppressed a chuckle at how genuinely surprised the tall Darkner was. Rouxls grasped his hand, adjusting and he could never imagine himself becoming familiar with the spark that formed when they connected. He gently tugged Mettaton's hand- a nervous sound coming from the ghost- and began to sway around, his steps in a royal pattern. In no way was Rouxls graceful when it came to dancing, but he enjoyed the thought that he was nonetheless.

Mettaton remained shaky and tried to swing his arms properly, trying to follow along. “Darling, I’m afraid I don’t know this dance…”

Rouxls signature grin came into place and he hummed. “Everything about thiseth realm is a mystery, would thou be able to bring along thy melody in a dream? Thy will close my eyes.” as spoken, the Duke closed his eyes after, movement a stuttering mess, Mettaton couldn’t help but giggle.

They both swayed and moved along the path of flowers, that only grew with each step they took. The Saber buried and long forgotten. Slowly, Mettaton felt at ease and a soft sound came and echoed and soon enough, Mettatons voice made an appearance. He started slow, words coming in a stuttering sentence before it slowly turned into experimenting vocals. Slowly, his voice hummed and sang out a tune, coming up with the lyrics from the top of his head. Rouxls wide grin turned into a content smile. He didn't understand the blossoming feeling in his chest, or how Mettatons voice could be so alluring.

“ _Under layers of nothing but galaxies_  
 _And if I could,_  
 _If I could,_  
 _I would meet you, I would see you_.”

The Duke swallowed thickly, almost nervously, he slowly opened his eyes. What he saw before him was a form he never once saw before.

Before him, was Mettaton, he believed. But not in his simple ghost form, but in a blinding light, was trying to muster up a different physical appearance. Rouxls stared in awe, eyes wide and lips parted, his grasp on Mettaton hands loosened- his hands noticeably trying to structure itself into fingers and a palm- his breath taken away. Before he could get a clear view, there was a voice all too familiar repeating one single phrase. Familiar blinding of his eyes and a squeeze of his stomach, his eyes flew open and his arms threw itself upwards as if to desperately grasp something. Anything.

“Lesser dad! Lesser dad, awaken!”  
“No!” he yelled out, startling the new King of the Darklands.

“Wow. You must’ve had one good dream!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rouxls might not understand, but his feelings are growing more than to be just platonic.  
> I really appreciate the kudos, comments, and feedback!! it really keeps me going and since this is my first multi-chapter fic I sorta want to make it complete!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are writers fuel!! And this ship desperately needs more fics


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